


Quiet, but Bright

by ashmeera101



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-13 15:53:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9131281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashmeera101/pseuds/ashmeera101
Summary: Chirrut Îmwe may be blind, but there are things he can see that others cannot.





	

Chirrut never knew what it was like to see. To him, the world was simply sound and smells and touches, senses that he had to develop, to compensate for his lack of sight. The feel of his lightbow in his hands, wood and metal smooth from the years of use. The scent of spices and sweat from the Jedha City market, a scent that lingered on his robes even after they had returned to the temple for the night. Baze’s roughened, familiar voice from the shadows, describing people and events to him as they passed.  
  
But when he began sensing the Force, he discovered another sense altogether. A sense that was almost completely his own. It swirled and surrounded him, like dust from the desert plains surrounding his city, except that he could not touch it. Wherever he turned, wherever he moved, it moved with him, moved around him, like some living creature, anticipating his every move, rippling with his every action. 

Baze scoffed at his description of it, and the Force balked slightly around him, as if almost offended that he did not believe in its existence. But Chirrut knew that it was not for anything but the other man’s own pragmatism. He could not see the Force for what it was, and it was not in his friend’s way to believe in something he could not experience himself.

He however, learned to read it. The more he spent meditating, allowing his mind to join with the currents surrounding him, losing himself in the infinity of it all, the more he began to trust it. In turn, the Force seemed to attune itself to him, making it easier to read his surroundings, the people around him. 

How it weaved around a group of playing children, leaping about them like a pup. The way it seemed to tremble around a patrol of Stormtroopers harassing townsfolk as they bought their wares. It may not breathe, but he’d be damned if it wasn’t alive.

How it seemed to _glow_ around the young woman in Jedha City. He had sensed her as soon as she stepped into the vicinity, on the heels of another he could not quite read because she was so loud. The Force was coalescing around her, burning bright like a dying star. He had a similar event described to him once before, by Baze, one night many years ago. The night a comet had shattered directly over their planet, casting trails of matter down onto the city. The word Baze used came to mind now as he gripped his staff, lips curling into a smile.

_Stardust._

Baze balked when he found out Chirrut couldn’t see, because when they first met, he had stridden up to the temple with no staff, hands tucked behind him after his morning walk. Because by then, his faith in the Force was so solid, so strong, that he believed in it completely. Believed that it would protect him, shelter him from the dangers of the world around him.

_I am one with the Force, and the Force is with me._

A mantra he lived by for the next thirty years, until he could practically see the way Baze rolled his eyes at him when he so much as opened his mouth. A mantra that guided him when Jedha was torn asunder by the Empire. The temple, the market, the entire city, everything he had ever known, shattered in a single instant.

But the Force protected him. Led him to the girl-who-was-stardust. He saved her from the Stormtroopers, and she saved him from Jedha, him and Baze and that pilot in the other cell. Saved them from Jedha but threw them into the heart of the Rebellion. Chirrut was again surrounded by sound and activity, though the way the Force acted here was a world away than the calm, swift currents of his home.

There were explosions and whirling winds around the Council as they warred in the meeting room, as the leaders of the Rebellion argued over decisions that could change the fate of the galaxy. Dozens and dozens of pilots and spies and agents flew in and out of the base, and he knew. Chirrut knew they were not going to return.

For the Force seemed to quieten around those about to enter death. It softened around the edges of the person, as if withdrawing itself from the body. He had seen it countless times. Even if the death was sudden, quick as a blaster bolt to the chest, the Force seemed to know. It could predict the moment a heart was to stop forever.

It also changed around one with the intent to kill. It was why he asked Baze about Cassian, if he looked like a killer, for the Force began to quieten around him as soon as they landed on Eadu, quietened as the man himself did. And he was a man of few words to begin with, Chirrut knew. They spent time in a cell together, enough time for Chirrut to feel the weight he carried on his shoulders. The weight of too many deaths, lives taken that he blamed himself on. He had killed in the past, there was no doubt about that. His blaster was too quiet, too detached from the currents around it.

But in the end, he did not take _this_ life.

For this was the father of the girl-that-was-stardust, the father of Jyn Erso. A man who had helped the Empire build a terrible weapon, a weapon that had destroyed his entire city in a single moment, a weapon that was far too powerful to even exist. Cassian would have been able to kill him with ease.

But he didn’t. Chirrut never found out why he didn’t, but when they escaped Eadu, he felt the Force deepen around him, heavy with emotion. And he did not pry beyond that, not even when Jyn was yelling at him, the great weight of grief in her voice. The scent of death hung heavy in their ship, and the Force shuddered under the impact of it. He closed his eyes, shutting off from the two arguing in front of him, and drew deep into himself.

_I am one with the Force and the Force is with me._

And the Force was indeed with them when they landed on Scarif, when the diversion was set and the enemy was drawn out. They cut down dozens, hundreds of Stormtroopers, and when Chirrut rushed through the trees, Baze and the others around him, he felt the Force roar with anticipation. He prayed for haste to be with Jyn, Cassian, and the droid, prayed that they were able to get to the archives in time, to be able to swiftly find the plans and escape the building.

But then, he felt the Force quieten around him.

Bodhi was yelling through the com, yelling at them to flip the switch so they could send the plans to their allies in orbit. The man responsible for this task was dead beside him, a blaster bolt to the head, body not yet cold. Baze was a step behind Chirrut, and he knew that if he voiced his plan, what he was about to do, his friend would stop him immediately. 

Which is why he gripped his staff tight and began walking towards the control panel. 

He barely heard Baze yelling his name, barely heard the blaster fire around him. All he could visualize was the switch, bright and burning, directly ahead of him, getting closer and closer as he walked towards it.

He knew that none of the shots would touch him. He knew because the Force willed it. But once he had pulled on the switch, activated the connection, he knew he was going to die.

The explosion threw him several feet, and he felt a sharp pain, felt his legs go numb and his chest explode into blossoming stars. He would have already thought he was dead, if not for Baze’s roughened voice pleading over him, ragged breathing warm on his face. 

Chirrut saw a bright light. Was it light? Was that what light was? It was shuddering, it was beautiful. And it called out to him. 

He said something to Baze, he couldn’t quite remember what, because the light was getting closer, burning brighter. He knew now in his heart of hearts that it was the Force, brilliant and everlasting, drawing his soul into the depths of itself. And he was ready to reach out, to accept it into himself completely

But he wanted to make sure Baze knew he was never going to leave him. That he would be with his friend until the very end, no matter how short or long his life may be.

Chirrut Îmwe smiled at his friend one last time, and said with his final breath.

“I am one with the Force, and the Force is with me.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hi hi so this is my first Star Wars fic ever. I'm basing this on a single watch of Rogue One, and so if any details are wrong/mixed up etc I sincerely apologise. (Though I don't know if I can bring myself to rewatch it even in the future. Once was painful enough.)
> 
> Chirrut was my favourite character even before going into the cinema. I hope I did him justice.


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